questioning my soul

“You were a slave for many past lives,” a handwriting analyst said.
I’m also an elephant – clearly by my large strokes that filled the page.
Clearly, she didn’t like elephants.
 
But my signature is a frog – a tiny, illegible scribble near the bottom.
A friend, quite happy to be the same animal inside and out, stared at me.
Obviously, she was true to herself.
 
Maybe that’s why I’m so insecure and can’t ever be true to myself.
I don’t even know who I am; I’ve tricked myself this whole time –
A brash elephant and a timid frog.
 
“But you’re no longer a slave,” she said emphatically piercing my gaze.
Wait, why do I still FEEL like one???
Maybe she was trying to trick me into leaving the murky pond.